


My dearest Enemy

by navaan



Category: Iron Man Noir, Marvel (Comics)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Awkward Romance, Banter, Complicated Relationships, Enemies to Lovers, Gunshot Wounds, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-16 17:31:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9282497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/navaan/pseuds/navaan
Summary: Victor was nothing if not thorough. He kept tabs on all his enemies. On one in particular.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sineala](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sineala/gifts).



Victor was nothing if not thorough. He kept tabs on all his enemies. Too many of them were close-by - although the ones here in Latveria were in no position to present a threat to the powers wielded by Doom. And despite war raging through Europe he was confident that he could keep his borders safe for now. Not even the Germans had yet dared to make him an enemy. Hydra had learned to fear him and the Russians had learned not to send spies. There was only one person he considered a true threat.

And Tony Stark, since their brush months ago when the man had let himself be sent here by his army like a dog jumping at the master’s whistle, had always made it easy on him in that regard. Stark was easy to track. Half his exploits became public knowledge before the army could ever put a lid on things. It amused Doom to think that even though Stark was playing their military games, he was still an adventurer at heart and a man who would not allow himself to be leashed. 

God knew, Victor had tried when Stark had crossed him.

The image of his only worthy adversary on his knees before him wearing a collar put there by Doom's own hands brought a smile to his face, while he let his fingers tap an impatient melody on the wooden armrest of his throne. He could still make it happen one day. He would. Even Stark would never be enough to best him and one day he would understand.

But he would try his best to escape Doom and break his power. 

And Doom would thwart him.

As it should be.

But that was exactly why Doom was very much not amused today. 

For weeks there had been no news of Stark at all. Not even the sliver of a rumor about his actual whereabouts had reached Latveria and none of his spies had been able to bring news today. None of his own efforts had brought to light where Stark was hiding.

That was a problem.

Doom was beginning to think the man wasn’t hiding from him at all, but was being hidden.

Hydra had been hunting him relentlessly for some time now and not all details about the plans they had in store for him were clear to Doom. But Stark was of high interest to the new leaders of the organization and Stark - like Doom - had no interest in seeing the many headed beast rise again. The cretins were meddling with too many forces beyond their understanding and crossing his path too often.

And now it seemed Stark, after venturing into Germany, had vanished behind enemy lines.

None of this would do.

Doom had already scripted a better ending for the Stark adventure stories and they involved his own name on the cover. He was not letting the green menace take his only worthy adversary from the playing field.

* * *

Tony had just managed to free his hands. The wrists were bloody, but he hadn’t had the time to look for a better way out. For a week he’d been held in a prison cell by an SS commandant who was playing power games with the new man in charge of Hydra, who called himself the Red Skull. Tony had seen the ugly red mask twice already and the voice that spoke through it still gave him chills even when he was just remembering it.

“Zemo,” he’d addressed Tony last time, “it is time to take your place.”

To hell with it all! Tony was not going to wait for it to happen. He’d set out to keep the Germans from developing a new type of bomb, and the two secret weapon plants he’d successfully destroyed so far should at least be a set back.

Now he just had to get out of here and and not give them an opportunity to turn him.

With Iron Man it would have been easier, but he hadn’t dared bring his best weapon into the den of the lion. Now he was defenseless.

Hard boots were loud on the old wooden floors and Tony could hear the soldiers long before they ever rounded the corner. He braced himself for the fire of multiple guns, embraced the coming oblivion before it had been granted as the better option, when a black dot appeared before his eyes and widened into a hole. He froze, staring into the black nothingness of space when the fingers of a dark metallic armor plated hand appeared and tried to grab him. He tried to take a step back.

A shot grazed his cheek and then, just as the strong hand finally caught hold of his shoulder all air was knocked from his lungs and he fell forward right into the arms that were waiting for him in the darkness.

* * *

He woke, his face pressed against someone’s naked chest. He recognized the green silk immediately, despite the pounding in his head and the pain in his side being a major distraction.

“You’re awake.”

“Very observant,” he shot back and looked up. Victor Von Doom was still wearing his mask, but he was wearing nothing else. Just like last time. “How did you find me?”

“I have my ways.”

He shifted to lie more comfortably and huffed. “Spare me the magic lesson. You used the Makulan energy converter to create a rift in space time. That’s not magic. Just very advanced science.”

“Magic,” Doom said. “Be thankful I used my power to get you.”

“Look,” Tony said and tried to sit up. It was a stupid move. The pain shot through him like fire.

“You are not healed,” the nearly naked man pointed out tartly.

“No kidding. _Look_ ,” he tried again, “we can’t keep doing this. We are enemies.”

“You did not complain that much last time.”

“That…” He tried to find the right words. “It was an exchange.”

“I let you go,” Doom agreed.

“Don’t kid yourself. I could have gotten away any time. I wanted the ring.”

“I saved you.” Doom let the words hang in the air between them, then he firmly but not ungently touched the place where a bullet had ripped through his flesh. Tony winced, falling back on the mattress. Doom leaned over him. “You will keep your life. You will rest and heal. _Here_. Another exchange.”

He snorted. The man was so full of himself.

But Tony had always had a fondness for the dangerous ones, the ones that challenged him. At least with Doom he knew where he stood. There would be no unexpected betrayal, because no real trust was ever given.

He let himself lie there and pondered it as Victor settled down again, touching their bodies together. In the quiet of the room, hearing nothing but Victor’s steady heartbeat and the quiet sounds of their breathing, it would be easy to forget there was a war on.

“Alright,” he agreed, tracing a finger along one of the burn marks that marred Victor’s chest, “another exchange.”

It was a bad idea. He would make sure that Pepper would never get to write this adventure whatever happened next. He would never _tell_ her, because he did not want to hear the "I told you so" that he would have coming when all of this went to hell.

But right now he only wanted to rest and sleep and heal.

He could deal with Victor’s _demands_ when he was feeling better.

And then it was back to business. Tony Stark was nothing if not willing to roll with the punches to come out on top and if there was some more human comfort offered along the way to keep the cold loneliness at bay for a while longer he was not going to throw it back in his rescuer's face..

Not that he had much hope of coming out on top in Victor’s version of this scenario. 

Right now, with the warm body beside him and fingers kneading his scalp, making him forget the pain of the gunshot wound, he really didn’t mind all that much.


End file.
